Reemul, de Lint, Lynx
Jul. 14th, 2007 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ferine*Tears and stars in eyes, wonder blazing in chest*...
Read Old Man Crow, Charles de Lint’s latest chapbook, last night.
This story, brief as it may be, whispered resoundingly to my sometimes tired heart.
Not only did it bring Reemul to mind, but it reminded me to honor myself, and to remember who and what I am.
The corbae creed of "awakening the cousins" immediately brought to mind Reemul's admission of "pushing" (his term) others in a spiritual/symbolic sense to admit and realize their true nature and to bring it to the fore. Those who spent time with him in person doing animal work remember this.
The story, beautifully crafted and o-so-timely, whisked me to another--yet inner-- headspace. Visions, snippets of dialogue, and emotions of the recent Gathering whorled abstractly. Nature scenes from childhood to maturity morphed through my mind's eye like a warming lava lamp's display. Such memories were a part of me, within me, and me.
I can never forget I am Lynx. Lynx, the ugly, crippled, diseased old codger that enters the sweat lodge and is transformed, healthy and vital; Lynx, hounded by Coyote's unwarrented jealousy, yet always emerging unscathed; Lynx, aiding others altruistically; Lynx, laid-back, soft-eyed, observant, and truth-seeing; lynx, built for snowscapes, draped in supple pelt, cautious, quiet, and eternally tied to the snowshoe hare.
To be an animal person is to celebrate being an animal and a person. To be an animal person is to embrace metaphor, symbolism, and the possibility of being. To be an animal person is not only to dream, but to act, to make a difference. To be an animal person is to hunt the self and learn and know. Being an animal person means responsibility: responsibility to the environment, responsibility to our animal and human brethren, responsibility for our own conduct. Being an animal person, we find our way and each other.
Read Old Man Crow, Charles de Lint’s latest chapbook, last night.
This story, brief as it may be, whispered resoundingly to my sometimes tired heart.
Not only did it bring Reemul to mind, but it reminded me to honor myself, and to remember who and what I am.
The corbae creed of "awakening the cousins" immediately brought to mind Reemul's admission of "pushing" (his term) others in a spiritual/symbolic sense to admit and realize their true nature and to bring it to the fore. Those who spent time with him in person doing animal work remember this.
The story, beautifully crafted and o-so-timely, whisked me to another--yet inner-- headspace. Visions, snippets of dialogue, and emotions of the recent Gathering whorled abstractly. Nature scenes from childhood to maturity morphed through my mind's eye like a warming lava lamp's display. Such memories were a part of me, within me, and me.
I can never forget I am Lynx. Lynx, the ugly, crippled, diseased old codger that enters the sweat lodge and is transformed, healthy and vital; Lynx, hounded by Coyote's unwarrented jealousy, yet always emerging unscathed; Lynx, aiding others altruistically; Lynx, laid-back, soft-eyed, observant, and truth-seeing; lynx, built for snowscapes, draped in supple pelt, cautious, quiet, and eternally tied to the snowshoe hare.
To be an animal person is to celebrate being an animal and a person. To be an animal person is to embrace metaphor, symbolism, and the possibility of being. To be an animal person is not only to dream, but to act, to make a difference. To be an animal person is to hunt the self and learn and know. Being an animal person means responsibility: responsibility to the environment, responsibility to our animal and human brethren, responsibility for our own conduct. Being an animal person, we find our way and each other.
